Revelations
by Pica Britanica
Summary: This is Damian learning about Dick's parents for the first time, and being nice for a change. I hope I've got these characters right, I've never written a Batman fic before. One shot
1. Damian

**A/N: This idea wouldn't leave me alone last night, so much so that I couldn't sleep until I'd written it in my notebook. Anyway, I hope you like it and ignore the fact that it might be somewhat OOC, this is the first Batman fic I've written, so any tips on how to improve are greatly appreciated.**

Damian was woken by an unusual sound, it sounded like screaming. He glanced at the alarm clock on his bedside table, 2:30. The screaming hadn't stopped, and Damian knew he wouldn't be able to sleep through it, so he swung his feet out of the comfortable bed and set off in search of the noise's cause. Out in the hallway was dark, but a light from down Grayson's end of the hall gave Damian just enough illumination to see where he was going.

He wandered down the hall realising that the noise was coming from Grayson's room. The door hung open, allowing Damian to see the older man thrashing and crying in his bed. Damian frowned, what had gotten the moron so upset? He watched a little longer as Grayson began to shout in some language he didn't know. He did hear some names though, names he recognised: Bruce, Barbara, he was surprised to hear his own name too. The words "Mami" and "Tati" were repeated over and over again. Suddenly, Grayson shot into a sitting position, meaning Damian could see his feverish blue eyes and sweat soaked hair.

Their eyes met for a second before Grayson spoke, "Go back to bed Damian." His voice was hoarse from screaming and Damian noticed he was shaking too.

Damian raised an amused eyebrow, "Why should I? It's my house."

"Go to bed!" Grayson shouted, Damian was shocked, Grayson had never shouted at him like that before. He turned and quickly walked away, for a moment, Damian was scared of the older man. He paused and turned back, Bruce was going into the room now, shutting the door gently behind him.

Damian huffed and stalked away to his room, where he sat trying to understand what had happened for most of the night.

The next morning Damian found Grayson sat at the kitchen table staring into space, his coffee long since gone cold. He gave a light cough as he passed through his line of view, trying to diffuse the awkward tension in the air. Grayson glanced at him before looking down at his coffee. Damian was about to speak when Alfred entered.

"Ah, good morning Master Damian, Master Dick." The butler said, taking Grayson's coffee from him.

"Hmm." Grayson said in reply.

Alfred looked at the man with sympathy evident in his eyes, "Master Dick, are you sure you want to-"

"Yes I'm sure." Grayson snapped. He froze, seemingly remembering who he was speaking to, and sighed, dropping his head into his hands. "I'm sorry, Alfred." He muttered.

"No need Master Dick, we all get a little wound up sometimes."

"Wound up?" Damian laughed, "He shouts at you and you just let it go, if it were me you'd-"

Damian was silenced by a stern batglare from Bruce, who had just walked in. He looked to Alfred and then to his eldest son sat at the table, "Damian, could you leave us for a moment?" he said quietly.

"What?" Damian frowned and crossed his arms, he had meant this to look indignant and grown up, but he looked more like a sulking little boy.

"Damian don't argue, not today." Bruce sighed. He ushered his son out of the room and shut the door again. Damian stood just on the other side, his ear to the wood, trying to hear the conversation he had been rudely excluded from.

"Dick, are you alright?" Bruce was saying.

Grayson sighed, "Yeah, I just hate it. It's the same every year. I cope pretty well most of the time, it's just when…" a choked sob interrupted his words, was he crying again? Damian had, obviously, noticed Grayson's red eyes this morning, and the deep shadows under the same dull blue eyes.

"You don't have to go if you don't want to." Bruce said, Damian could imagine him sat next to the younger man with an arm around his shoulders. Grayson was so weak, Damian concluded. But he was intrigued as to what had gotten him in such a state. He heard the door handle being pulled and the door swung open, luckily Damian had jumped away just in time to save him from being caught eavesdropping.

Bruce stood in the doorway, watching his youngest son closely. "Damian, I thought I asked you to leave."

"I did." Damian retorted.

"Bruce leave it. I don't care if he knows or not." Grayson said from in the kitchen.

Bruce sighed and moved aside, letting Damian pass into the kitchen. Damian made a slow, deliberate show of getting things together to make his breakfast and then sitting at the table opposite Grayson. "So what's going on?" he asked eventually.

Grayson sniffed, and rubbed his eye before standing up, "One of you two can tell him, I'll be late otherwise." he said as he left.

Bruce watched him leave until he rounded the corner, then sat down beside Damian, "If you must know, today is the anniversary of Dick's parents' death. He's going to their grave later."

"So, why was he crying about it last night?" Damian asked, not understanding his brother's show of emotion at all.

Bruce sighed, and looked to Alfred for help, the butler was currently washing out Grayson's used cutlery and crockery. Alfred saw the pained look and turned to look at Damian, "Master Dick saw his parents die. He saw them fall to their death and he couldn't do a thing about it. That fact haunts him to this day, and is the reason he has had nightmares since a young age."

Damian was beginning to understand now, "How old was he?" came the meek response; he was staring down the hall the way Grayson had left.

"Much younger than you." Bruce said as he stood up, "I'd better go check on him." He said more to himself.

"No," Damian said, grabbing his father's sleeve, "I'll go." Bruce raised an eyebrow but said nothing, watching as Damian left the kitchen in pursuit of the man he now had a little more respect for.

Damian stood in front of Grayson's door, unsure what to say. He was about to knock when the door opened and Grayson almost walked into him. "Damian." He said in surprise.

"Grayson…" Damian tried to say something, but wasn't sure at all what to say. He glanced up at the older man, who just stood waiting patiently, "I want to come with you, to their grave," he said, "please."

Dick blinked at him, he hadn't been expecting that. A small smile spread across his face, "Okay."

Damian, shifted his weight from one foot to the other, wanting to say more but not knowing how to say it, in the end he decided on something simple, "Dick, I'm sorry." Sorry for so many things.

**A/N: So I hope you like it, and I hope the ending isn't too cheesy. Please leave a review to let me know what you think.  
Mags**


	2. Dick

Dick woke screaming, and bolted upright in his bed. It was then that he noticed a small figure standing in the doorway. Damian! Oh hell.

"Go back to bed Damian." Dick murmured, trying to keep a steady stare at the younger boy. His throat was throbbing, probably from all the screaming he'd been doing. His voice sounded hoarse and gruff from a mixture of sleep and over use.

Damian smirked, "Why should I? It's my house." he snapped in reply.

Dick really wasn't in the mood to cope with Damian's snide remarks tonight. "Go to bed!" he shouted, with more force than he had meant to. Damian stood for a minute looking shocked, and secretly, Dick was shocked too, he didn't know he had the capacity to shock Damian. After a moment of slack jawed blinking, Damian turned and left. Dick collapsed back onto his pillow and stared up at the ceiling for a while.

"Dick?" a gentle voice said from the doorway. Dick glanced over to see Bruce gently shutting the door behind him.

"What?" Dick sighed, running a hand over his face. He was tired, exhausted even, but he knew he wouldn't sleep tonight. He turned away from Bruce and closed his eyes, God, how childish was he getting? He hadn't tried doing that in years… he felt Bruce's hand on his shoulder, "Dick turn over and talk to me."

His words were soothing, but an order, one Dick couldn't disobey. So begrudgingly, he rolled onto his back and sat up, facing the man who had acted as his father for most of his life. He raised an eyebrow.

"Thank you," Bruce said, "So, I assume it was the same as usual."

Dick nodded, "Yeah, sort of."

"Sort of?" Bruce frowned.

"It wasn't just them… there was nothing I could do, Bruce. I watched everyone I care for die, and I couldn't do anything." There were tears in the young adult's eyes as he looked up at his adoptive father.

Bruce sighed, even though his eldest son was not a child any longer, the defeated face before him reminded Bruce of the small boy that had been thrust into his life all those years ago. He pulled Dick into a hug, wrapping his son in the love and comfort that he so desperately needed. Dick meanwhile was fighting hard with the tears that threatened to spill down his cheeks again. Bruce pulled away and held Dick at arm's length, checking the almost vacant face, almost, because he could see the struggle going on beneath the surface to hide all the pain Dick still felt, the same pain Bruce himself had fought long and hard to overcome, and still not conquered.

Dick shuffled uncomfortably under the stare of his father, "Bruce, you should go to bed. I'll be fine I promise." he tried hard to force a smile onto his face, but knew it would look false.

"Richard I don't want to leave you when you need me, I've made mistakes like that before," Bruce said, now it was his turn to feel uncomfortable. "Dick, if you want me to stay here tonight, I will."

"Bruce, please. I'm not ten anymore, I'll be fine, go get some sleep." Dick replied, giving Bruce a gentle shove.

"Alright, if you're sure…" Bruce murmured, not really wanting to leave as he hesitantly rose from his seat and walked over to the door, "I can stay if –"

"Go!" Dick half heartedly chuckled. Bruce gave him one last concerned glance before turning and walking out of the room, leaving Dick to face his nightmares alone once more.

* * *

Dick had been sat at the kitchen table for a good two hours when Damian walked in the next morning. He had been trying to muster the courage to face the pain, and failing. The coffee he had made himself an hour ago had long since gone cold, and he too was cold, he'd forgotten how draughty this room could get.

He heard Damian cough awkwardly and glanced up at the younger boy before staring at his coffee mug. No doubt the kid was wanting to know what he had seen last night, he'd have a lot of questions that Dick really didn't want to answer right now.

Dick heard the intake of breath signalling Damian about to speak, and then the blessed interruption of Alfred, "Ah, good morning Master Damian, Master Dick." he said, cheerfully diffusing the tension. Dick felt the older man's hand brush comfortingly against his as he took his cup from him.

"Hmm." Dick had meant to say thank you, but no words made it out of his mouth, just a non-committal noise that made it evident his mind was elsewhere.

"Master Dick, are you sure you want to-"

"Yes, I'm sure!" Dick snapped, he was sick of people asking him that, it was the same every year. Why did they have to ask? Then a sudden revelation of who he was talking to hit him and guilt washed over him like icy water. He sighed and dropped his head into his hands, wishing he could block the world out. "I'm sorry Alfred." He muttered.

"No need Master Dick, we all get a little wound up sometimes."

"Wound up?" Damian laughed, "He shouts at you and you just let it go, if it were me you'd-"

Dick was about to snap again and lifted his head to speak to the little brat when he was Bruce enter the room behind his youngest son, Damian noticed him too and stopped short in his tirade.

"Damian, could you leave us for a moment?" Bruce said quietly.

"What?" Damian frowned and crossed his arms, Dick smiled ruefully, Damian thought he was so grown up and important, but he just looked like a small, spoiled, sulking child.

"Damian don't argue, not today." Bruce sighed. He ushered him out of the room and shut the door again. The three adults left in the room all knew that a door wouldn't stop Damian from hearing if he wanted to, but carried on the conversation regardless.

"Dick, are you alright?" Bruce asked quietly, moving across the room to sit in front of Dick.

Dick sighed and waved his concern away, "Yeah, I just hate it. It's the same every year. I cope pretty well most of the time, it's just when…" a choked sob interrupted his words, he hated crying like this. He'd been crying all night, and most of the morning too.

"You don't have to go if you don't want to." Bruce said. Dick shook his head and was about to speak when a rather loud huff came from behind the door. Bruce rolled his eyes and walked over, swinging the door open with enough force to pull it off its hinges. Damian stood just off to one side, trying and failing to look innocent. Bruce sounded exasperated when he said "Damian, I thought I asked you to leave."

"I did." came Damian's scoffing reply.

Bruce was about to tell his youngest not to be so rude and to respect private conversations when Dick interrupted him, "Bruce leave it. I don't care if he knows or not."

Bruce hesitantly stepped aside and let the young troublemaker into the kitchen, they all watched as Damian slowly and deliberately made a show of gathering his breakfast things before sitting down in the chair opposite Dick, "So, what's going on?" he asked, not even bothering to sound uninterested.

Dick sniffed, and rubbed his eye, he had a headache developing again, "One of you two tell him, I'll be late otherwise." Not strictly true, as he didn't really have any specific time to be there, but he did have a schedule for the afternoon. And with that, Dick decided it would be best if he left, he rose from his chair and stiffly made his way out of the room. He could feel three pairs of eyes watching him intently, he hated all this attention, he just wanted to hide from it all, like he had when he was little.

However, Dick understood all too well that such an approach did not work. He stopped and leaned against the cool wall of the hallway, taking a shaky breath and closing his eyes. He had to do this, he had to see them. Dick remembered that he'd left his jacket in his room and made his way up the central staircase to his room. He grabbed his jacket of the back of the desk chair and turned to leave, that's when he noticed the picture, well, noticed is the wrong word, he clocked the picture out of the corner of his eye, and felt the tears brimming in his eyes once more. The photo was of his much younger self and his parents, all of them smiling, all of them so alive… but that was then.

Dick brushed a thumb over the glass of the picture and sighed, he turned away and opened the door.

And stopped abruptly. "Damian." He said, surprised to see the small boy there.

Damian shuffled uncomfortably, "Grayson…" he trailed off, it seemed whatever the boy had to say was difficult to find. Damian glanced up at Dick before staring at the floor, "I want to come with you, to their grave," he said, "please."

Dick was shocked, was this Damian, or an alien? He allowed himself to smile a little, "Okay." He moved past the boy and walked down the corridor.

Damian shuffled again behind him, and the next words he said were almost inaudible from the distance Dick stood, "I'm sorry." Almost inaudible, but not quite. Dick's smile grew as peace spread through his body. Today might not be so bad after all.

* * *

**A/N: Did you like it, I hope you did. I didn't plan to add anything to this story, but I felt it needed more. There's just the chapter at the graveside to go now. Which I hope will be suitably moving and fluffy. Until next time.  
Mags**


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